Thursday, June 29, 2006

Not Here...

Outtatown friends. Happy fourth of July!
xo Manic

Wednesday, June 28, 2006

Grease Vs. High School Musical

Okay, okay, please forgive me for getting on this topic again, but my kids just yelled to me that GREASE is on ABC Family so I went to watch a few scenes.

Is it cuz I am getting older or do the 'kids' in GREASE look like 30-somethings while the 'kids' in HIGH SCHOOL MUSICAL definitely look like the right age for high school?

Rizzo looks about 40 in Grease. And Kinicki not so far behind.

Didn't get around to dishing about my dream last night, but did make it to Ajers football camp only about five minutes late today, so I was a hero.

Took SEVEN, yes, count 'em... seven kids to see CARS today. I wasn't looking forward to it, but was entranced... especially when I discovered Luke Wilson had the lead voice. I just closed my eyes and pretended he was on the screen.

Will be taking a short leave of absence coming up as I will be in The Garden of Midnight And Evil soon. Anyone else been there?

xo Manic.


Why is it that every time I'm having a really, really, REALLY hot, on-the-verge-of-ecstasy dream, I am woken up by some other force of nature. This morning's dream was whoooa! Hot.

And I'll blog about it later, but I have to go pick up Ajers from football camp and I have to be there on time today because I was 15 minutes late yesterday because I got lost (yeah, yeah, I know), and his poor little face was streaming with tears. He was mad, he was scared, he was worried, and I felt horrible. My little guy is still my little guy no matter how tough he wants us to think he is.

More later on the dream about Stever, the guy I *L U S T E D* after in college...

Tuesday, June 27, 2006


#s 88 - 85 have just been added here:

100 Things Continued

Monday, June 26, 2006

Long Time for 100

I just added a link to the right on the sidebar so you can click on the 100 Things since I'm adding stuff daily.

Also, c mommy asked that I add her to the sidebar; I'm doing a little blog-cleaning so if you want to be added, let me know, or if you want to be removed, I can do that too.

Nothing else to report. No crush news. No puke news. My friend was doing interesting things with a banana late night Saturday (after I had gone to bed at 8:00 p.m. -- that's the problem with starting my famous margaritas at 3:00 p.m. -- but I got up at midnight and the friend was doing some banana tricks), and he kept asking, "You gonna put this in the blog? Huh? This'll be really good in the blog.

The other interesting thing was --which I just realized c mommy will appreciate--we watched High School Musical hung over yesterday and kept embarrassing all the kids by singing at the top of our lungs.

On our way home from our friends' I looked at Hubby and said, "Admit it. You like that movie a lot, don't you?"

He just grinned stupidly and started belting out:

SOARING! FLYING! There's not a star in Heaven that we can't reach!

Sorry so boring. Maybe we should change this blog to Mundane Mom.

Saturday, June 24, 2006


So, I found out little Allison is FIVE. So, I don't have to kill her.

Just now, Hubby came in and asked, "ARE YOU EMAILING COACH?" We were totally lying in bed this a.m. (Hubby and me, not me and the COACH), and talking about MY crush and HIS crush. Because he majorly crushes on a particular neighbor and I cannot divulge who, because what if a neighbor reads this but I think there's only one neighbor (OKAY, two neighbors) who know this blog exists, and if they tell anyone else in the 'hood, I will KILL them, Okay Robyn and Patti!)

So, I was talking about how hot the coach probably looks without his shirt on, and then asking AJers about where he lives, etc (Coach picked up AJers to go to a baseball game -- that's why he came over -- NOW HE KNOWS WHERE I LIVE!). Then Hubby asked AJers how would he feel if he still lived in the neighborhood with a nice woman and a pool, and that he would still be his daddy but live in a different house.

Then I told him to go for it. Then I wondered aloud if we could possibly be SWINGERS!?!!?

Heavens NO!

So, we both have crushes, and we both know we'd NEVER act on anything like this, we are very moral people and very much in love, but hey, maybe we can do some role-playing some night!

40th surprise party last night was great. Lots of fun, good eats, and I only had ONE applemartini and it was possibly the best one I've ever had: The bartender drizzled caramel all inside the glass, dipped the rim in cinnamon and shook up a knock-down great cocktail. My neighbor had three. Had I had three, I would not be up at noon today typing this. After I had my ONE appletini, I moved on over to those wine spritzer thingies my other neighbor was telling me about: white wine, seltzer, and the chunk-o-lime on ice. I think I had about four of them cuties.

And no real hangover, no puking either (sorry Blair!) Hey Blair, I just realized you love my puke stories and your name is Blair and isn't the chick from Exorcist named Blair--the one who puked pea soup?

Digressing, as usual.

Next up, margarita fiesta party overnighter!

I'm off to add #97 to my list. Oops, I mean #98 because I ended up NOT talking about sexual positions in that one like I mentioned I might have. So, #98 has just been added. This is a slow introspective process, creating a list of 100 Things.

Hope you all are having a fabulous summer afternoon! xo Manic

Friday, June 23, 2006


Oh My Gosh! I am totally, totally swooning!

The coach just came over to get AJers, and he was all sported up in his work clothes and looking majorly hot with a new haircut and OH MY, I feel the need to call all my seventh grader girlfriends and say:


Oh my gosh, he is so cute. Just darling.

And I even said to him, probably all flirty like, "You look nice." I am sure I sounded so totally stupid. But man, he is a cutie. I wish I attended more of the baseball games this season.

And what do I look like? Pure crap. Stinky smelly, haven't taken a shower since yesterday at 2 p.m. crap. I am wearing an old raggedy black T and jogging shorts. Boring. Not attractive. I knew I shoulda dressed up for the occasion! At least I remembered to put on the gloss.

So, now I'm really going to Google him now, and will confess to hubby of my lusty thoughts.

Whew. It's getting hot in here.

PS... Can't find him on Google. Guess that's what happens when about 40% of all males are named James.

Chubby Chubby

So, I pick the kids up from Fiesta Vacation Bible School, which I like to call "Mommy-Gets-Three-Whole-Hours-To-Herself-Five-Days-In-A-Row-For-Only-Fifteen-Bucks-Per-Kid" Camp...

Ajers comes out and says, "Mom, this is kind of an insult to you."

Me: "What?"

Ajers: "Allison at camp today asked if you were pregnant."

Me: "Oh."

Ajers, very increduously said: "I told her NO, and why would she ask that?"

He said Allison's reply: "Cuz she looks a little bit chubby."


Anyway, that chick Allison is sure as heck lucky Vacation Fiesta Bible School is over because I would be kicking her smarmy little butt next time I see her!

Weight Watchers & Cute Coaches

So, I'm depressed. Weighed in and was thinking to myself, "Okay, if I lose at least 2 pounds this week, then I will treat myself to a grandeicednonfatsugarfreevanillalattenowhipofcourse." Here I was confident that I would have lost at least that much, or okay, maybe even just 1.8 pounds.

Nope. Only .4 of a pound.

That's technically NOT EVEN a half-pound. And we've got big party/eating/drinking plans for the weekend so I am fearing that the 3.8 pounds lost last week might not stay away.

However, a friend suggested drinking white wine with seltzer and a chunk-o-lime this weekend. Frothy, fizzy, buzzy, tangy, with lots of ice so I might be able to get away with that. But the margaritas at the fiesta tomorrow night might pose a problemo.

Oh, and I forgot to tell you I have a total crush on Ajer's baseball coach, and had a real live conversation with him yesterday and I felt like all mushy on the inside and nervous and wondered if I had a booger hanging out of my nose or anything equally gross happening with my face.

And, to make matters WORSE, Hubby knows I have a crush on him, and at one of the games where I was absent, Hubby starts prying and getting personal info from another players' parents who happen to be friends with the coach (like he's trying to get info in order to hook us up!). The other parents said they've been trying to find a nice girl for him, and Hubby tells them, "Well, if my wife wasn't married... heh heh hee."

So now I am afraid those people told the coach that I have a crush on him. How embarrassing. How Junior Highish. How totally, predictably me.

Thursday, June 22, 2006

StatCounter, Sitemeter, Whatever

I'm just now getting Internet Suave enough (I'm coining that phrase--I like it better than Internet Savvy)to be able to figure out who some of my readers are and how some of you find my blog. Here are a few recent google and yahoo searches that have led people, readers, possible perverts to my blog:

Manic Mom came up as Search #1 for Jack Johnson Living in the Moment.

I'm #7 for anyone who has googled: Tongue Allergy to Cinnamon.

My all-time favorite though is the search someone did for: Lonely At Home Women Looking To Have Sex.

First of all, I'm hardly lonely at home with three kids climbing up and around my uterus every freaking day, and secondly, I AM NOT LOOKING TO HAVE SEX and avoid it when I can (unless of course, I'm at a wedding in a coat room, or the roof of a friend's house, or the stairs to our beach condo, or the front of the car on our way home from a wedding... but, I digress here) usually because I already have three children trying to climb their way back in most days.

Moving along to a couple other points of Blogger Business--I am creating a THOUGHTFUL list for my 100 THINGS, so this is going to take some time and introspection, so please check back and maybe tomorrow I will have #99 figured out, and hopefully it will be a bit more exciting than #100. Thank you all for participating in that. I am interested in your lists too!

ALSO, if you are a serious blogger and I don't have you already listed on my FAVES on the sidebar, and you'd like to be included, just leave a comment with your URL and I'll be updating the sidebar soon, and would love to include you (as long as you're not blogging about kinky porn or gay sex. That's not my style, at least not this month).

Speaking of being Internet Suave, old dingbat Manic Mom just figured out how to change the font colors and fonts on this here bad-boy blog. Took me freaking long enough... And I added my #99 below so read it, and then tell me yours!

100 Things

Okay, anybody who's anybody has on their blog a post about 100 Things About Me (not about me, but about them, you know what I mean?) I've been thinking about doing mine, but I am not going to sit here and brainstorm about various things trying to come up with 100 things that may or may not describe me, that may be how I'm feeling at this particular moment. I'm going to try to figure out 100 things that really describe me, that make me different/unique from others, and truths. This is going to take a while and I'm going to start at #100 and work my way down to #1. Maybe when I get to #1 I will find my true self?

So, check back to this post periodically to see my journey to finding myself. To learning who I am, because at this point, I sure as hell have no clue! This might be a fun exercise. (If you would like to add your corresponding number in the comments after I post a THING, then we can work on our 100 List together!)

100. I sleep on the left side of the bed if you walk into the room; the right side if you are lying down in the bed. (Okay, so this might not exactly be very unique, because probably half of you can say the same, but it's a start!)

99. I am one of those women who cannot apply lipstick without looking in a mirror, and I never apply lipstick at a dinner table as it makes me feel uncomfortable. However, I will be the first to be in my car, searching for my lipstick in my purse while talking on the phone, then apply the color portion of the lipstick, blot my lips with a Kleenex (a box is always in my car, along with a box of wipees), and then apply the gloss portion of the lipstick. I am convinced one day I will get into a fender-bender because of this inane need to apply lipstick while driving. What's your #99?

98. I've had my heart broken, have cried a thousand and twelve tears over a guy I thought loved me or two or three, or cried over a guy who I knew didn't love me but took me whole and I gave him everything. But I am pretty sure I've never broken anyone's heart. I'm not sure if this is a good thing or a bad thing. I might have liked to have broken a heart in my day. You?

97. Whenever I brush my teeth, which is at least twice or three times a day, I wonder if I do the same motions each time, like do I always start on the left side, brush four times, then move to the right, then brush the tongue? I wonder if there's a way to track these brushstrokes to compare them each time, you know, like a lie detector test or a heart monitor, to see if I brush the same way every time? That's what I wonder about.

96. Back in the old days when they only had cassettes and records and tape recorders, I would sit with my red radio (wasn't called a Boom Box back then) and my tape recorder next to each other and wait until Blondie's Heart of Glass would come on the radio and then hit the Record button so I could have a copy of my favorite song. Life sure was lame back then.

95. I feel I lost a part of my childhood, a piece of who I was when I was 16 and moving from Tampa, Fla to Oak Brook, Illinois. I decided to give away my collection of paperback books. I had over 400 of them... John Saul, Steven King, all the Young Adult books I could snag (I usually could purchase 3 of them for five bucks at the mall, and still have money left over for Chic-Fil-A). I clearly remember my uncle driving away my books in the trunk of the car, and thinking, "I should not be doing this."

What I wouldn't do to see, touch, smell, page through those books, those books who were my friends, just one more time.

94. Before I met Hubby, I had never eaten at an Italian (not even Olive Garden!), Mexican (except Taco Bell) or Chinese restaurant in my entire life and felt he had opened up a whole new world for me. (And a whole new pants size!) Now I will eat almost any type of food, but I'm not a fan of sushi or Indian food. I would probably like sushi but always get the impression that it's not very filling. I know I am wrong.

Things I will never eat: raw oysters, grilled or sauteed calamari (although I love fried calamari rings, just not the tentacles). I'm trying to think of other food I will not eat: olives for sure, green peppers, oh and I think I may have tried that fo de graix stuff, but will never again, oh and tripe.

What are your food enemies?

93. Outside of the US, I have been to Grand Cayman, Switzerland, Germany, Austria, St. Thomas, Nassau, London for a layover, Canada, Jamaica. If they weren't so far away, I would like to see Ireland, Italy, France, Tahiti, Fiji, Australia (Ramblin' Rose!). I have no interest in visiting Japan ever. Or Iran, Iraq. There are more I would like to visit, more I would not like to visit, but I don't feel like searching through the Atlas right now.

92. I used to crave all things salty and crunchy -- a favorite being chips and salsa -- but now I'm not so sure anymore. Chocolate was never one of my downfalls, but I never seem to be able to pass on it like I was once able to.

91. However, speaking of chocolate, I used to always, always get chocolate cones or chocolate shakes if the choice was for one or the other. Now, I will never get chocolate, always opting for vanilla.

90. I like the idea of being mysterious even though I am far from it.

89. I'm discovering that I'm either really boring or I don't know much about myself.

88. I went to Catholic school from Pre-K all the way through 8th grade in a small school where our graduating class had 23 students. I understand the school is going to be closed this year, or already is. In ninth grade, I went to an all-girl's Catholic school. Tenth through Senior year, I hit the public circuit and that's when all hell broke loose and Manic Mom got her groove on! Ha, just kidding.

87. Because of the Catholic upbringing, in sixth grade, I was chosen to crown the Queen Mary in this Catholic ceremony called The Crowning of Queen Mary or something along the lines (maybe it's to recognize the annunciation--someone tell me, and wait, is annunciation something you do when you speak? In seventh grade, out of every single seventh grade girl (okay, there must have been 12 if our graduating class was 23, right?) I was chosen to play The Virgin Mary in our school remake of the night Christ was born, aka The Christmas Play. I had no lines to memorize, but had to remain very still, kneeling, holding a plastic baby doll the whole time. My legs went out on me when I finally got to stand, and my foot was numb so I almost fell. I cried to my parents. Sidenote--It was appropriate to be chosen to play The Virgin Mary as I was still most definitely a virgin at that time.

86. I've had cryosurgery, a colonoscopy, mammograms, MRIs, CATscans, a C-section, wisdom-teeth removal, and tonsils removed. I take my health very seriously, and I'm all about being proactive.

85. I've never had an abortion. But only because I lucked out.

84. I never throw out a photograph of loved ones. I feel it is a jinx. I also do not delete voicemails from loved ones until they are in my presence.

83. Hubby was ready for children before I was. I had them when I was ready.

82. I never did crack, crank, heroin, acid, X, cocaine, speed, 'shrooms. I wonder if I should have experimented more? I always wanted to feel that intensity from X that people talk about. Plus, it might have made me feel like I was a really good dancer.

81. Every time I go to the movies, I bring my own popcorn, not because I am cheap, but because I am semi-health-conscious and feel less guilty about the calories consumed if I mix my 94% Fat Free Smart Pop Kettle Korn in with some of the good stuff (non-buttered, of course). Still tastes great.

80. I bite my nails, and never paint them. They've gone to crap ever since I had my children and quit taking prenatal vitamins. My toes, however, are always painted, but I would bite them if I could reach. I did this when I was a kid.

79. I pick my face. And can usually spot-on guarantee a blemish for any kind of important event.

78. I pick and pull the skin on the bottom of my feet. They are the ugliest feet-bottoms in the entire world. If I lived in Florida or NYC where pedicures are as cheap as $12, I would get a pedicure weekly.

77. Practically every night, when I'm on this computer, I tell myself, "Self, you are going to bed at a normal time tonight." And every single time, I get sucked into this damn computer and never sucked into bed early.

76. Before I had children, I was always on time. As soon as the periods stopped being on time, and the stick turned purple, my DNA decided to add some weird DNA-Now-Be-Late-For-Everything Code. I am never on time for anything now. If I arrive fifteen minutes after the time we agreed upon, then, to me, that is on time. I hate, hate, hate that this is now a habit that describes me.

75. I enjoy sex so much more with a good buzz-on. Not because I don't enjoy sex when I'm sober; it's just that I am so much more relaxed and apt to do much more interesting things when I'm making love buzzed... like move a little.

74. When I'm feeling fat, I wear black. I am wearing black right now, except interestingly enough, my bra is red.

73. I never had migraines until after the birth of my daughter. I wonder if this is a sign? And that she is the cause of them?

72. I bury myself under the pillows and dig out a little hole in order to breathe. I love to sleep in pitch-black and hate any sunlight to wake me in the mornings. If I could do it every day, I would allow myself a nap, and for me, a nap is not a twenty-minute-close-your-eyes-snooze. A nap is falling into a deep sleep that could even include mid-day dreams. I also enjoy sleeping when I am majorly depressed; my college roommates can and do attest to this to this day--that when I was/am depressed I get into depressed mode and actually have a thing we've coined my "Depression Sleep."

71. I only just recently started buying some limited costume jewelry. Usually though, I just wear the same jewelry daily--same diamond earrings (nothing extravagant, I can assure you), my original wedding/engagement ring on my RIGHT hand, the diamond my mother gave me in place of my engagement ring is now on my left hand along with the anniversary band I got on our seventh anniversary (no surprise there--I begged for it). I wear the necklace hubby gave me when Ajers was born, that is a garnet, that my mother actually chose for me for hubby to give to me. I wear two bracelets--a Nominations one Hubby got me for Valentine's one year with the kids' birthstones and hearts on it, and a silver bracelet a dear friend gave to me--these on my right hand. On my left hand, the watch I got on our honeymoon over 13 years ago. I used to wear the diamond tennis bracelet my mom gave me on my left hand too, but some diamonds are loose and I've been too lazy to get it fixed. What jewelry do you wear?

70. I love cuddling with my children, but not when it's time for bed and they beg me to cuddle in order to stay up later like Diva is doing right this minute. But cuddling for no other reason than they want to feel their bodies next to mine and there's nothing else to do is better than a lot of things in life.

69. I used to; not so much anymore.





































































Wednesday, June 21, 2006

Reason Found!

I KNOW why I'm a crabby bitch. Our freaking air conditioner is broken and I was feeling the effects of having a near freaking heat stroke in this house. It was like 78 and boiling in here. And if you know me, I'm the type that has either air conditioning or heat on all year round. There ain't nothing in between. And now I don't know how I'm going to sleep tonight. Maybe in the cool bathtub. Ugh. I hate no air.

And here's another reason I am even more crabby than the last time I posted. I am so domestically-challenged, it took me more than an hour to attempt to put iron-on decals onto my kids shirts for FIESTA! Vacation Bible School.

I suck at domesticity. At least I knew where the iron was. Too bad the kids looked at the contraption and asked "What is that?"

I told Diva never to learn. It's a pointless, meaningless, trivial chore.

Things I've Done This Week And I'm Crabby

Last Night/This Week:
Slept in new PJs

Got a bug bite in the middle of the night.

Had some insomnia.

Shopped for a dress for my brother's wedding.

Found a dress for my brother's wedding.

Cheered that found said dress is not black.

Been Crabby.

Started getting crabby at the ending of The Break Up.

Wondered about Vince and Jennifer's real-life relationship.

Bought some new bras.

New shoes.

Necklace to match dress.

Returned some shorts.

Counted yellow cars.

Been crabby. Oh I mentioned that.

Haven't felt like blogging.

Doing a one-last revise of 40 Weeks before sending out the request.

Stalked Evil Editor and Miss Snark.

Stayed up way too late these past few nights.

Took great power walks but not today cuz it rained.

Dropped kids at Vacation Bible School (M-F, 1-4 p.m. YAHOO!)

Thought about stuff.

Tried not to think about stuff.

Thought about doing a list of the books I've recently read.

Thought about why I think of making lists about books I've recently read.

Took migraine med and blocked an impending headache.

Did laundry.

Counted points, which I forgot to tell you all that I counted points religiously last week and weighed in 3.8 pounds less than the week before.

Threatened kids because they are fighting too much.

Read blogs.

Made lunches.

Bought lunches.

Bought Slurpees.

Went to a baseball game.

Went to the mall.

Went to Kohl's.

Read some of Dreamland by Sarah Dessen.

Let's see, what else...
OK, so now things are slowing down in my brain and I can't think of anything else I've done. I just wish I could stop being crabby for no reason at all, but I can't so I won't so I think I'll go to bed early tonight for once, get all cozy in my nice new jammies, and finish Dreamland, and then take myself there.

What's on your list? I sure hope it's more exciting than mine.

Monday, June 19, 2006

Poetry In Progress

If I let it
It will devour me

I want it
Consume me
from the inside

Sunday, June 18, 2006

Happy Father's Day

So, I was trying to come up with something clever for all you dad readers out there... what, are there like two of you? R Martini and ...Okay, so there's one of you! I know there are other male readers--LMBK and J Holden, Oh, LZ Blogger--you're a dad, aren't ya?

Any of you male readers out there my exes? Hmmm....? Yeah, and there were like two of them only as well!

Anyway, I was thinking I would say, "For all you dads, here's a picture of a hot chick" and then I would link to a chicken on fire, or... ahhh, wait a minute, I can find a picture of a hot chick... hold please...

hang on...

picture of hot chick loading,

please wait...

oh, here she comes, that hot chick you've been waiting for...

Happy Father's Day all you Dads:

Hot Chick Coming Atcha

Bwahhh hahahahah!

I am sooo Internet Sauve. Wait, that's a shampoo. I mean Savvy. I am so Internet Savvy.

Anyway, folks, hope you're having a great day. As I mentioned a mere month ago, on Mother's Day, I am making sure Hubby and I are on even playing fields in honor of HIS day!

Happy Father's Day honey, in case you ever discover this blog, and all the secrets I am spilling about our lives!


Saturday, June 17, 2006

This Is A Blood-Boiling Rant

Alternate Titles for this Post:

How Stupid Do you Think I Am?


I May Be Stupid... but I'm Not that Stupid.

I am severely annoyed at this moment,

this post has been removed by Manic Mom because if a certain person read it, then I might have some serious problems on my hands.

Friday, June 16, 2006


If you've stopped by, would you be so kind and just leave the year of your birth in the comments section? Thanks.

The World

If everyone started every day out with an orgasm, don't you think the world would be a much more peaceful place?

I do.

I'm off to toss flower petals!

XO Manic

Thursday, June 15, 2006


When there's nothing to say, why write? I'm trying to come up with something interesting to say, but this first week of summer has been just getting acclimated to the schedule change... oh, and sleeping in now that the kids can make their own breakfast.

I haven't had a drink since May 30, not that I'm going all AA on you or anything, but it's nice to have hangover-free weekends. I have also been doing WW religiously and walking or doing yoga each day. Will report back tomorrow if there's any substantial weight loss -- I could always amputate a leg for a quick 20 pounds.

Note came in the mail today--mammogram came back clear. Did you get your boobies squished yet?

Will blog about something interesting soon.

Friday, June 09, 2006

Can You Believe It?

CHECK THIS OUT - The post on 6-9-06.
Does this make me famous yet?

Butts, Boob, and Getting Some Booty

What is with my butt!!? What is the big attraction with my butt (besides its size, I mean?)

The people in this family love my butt. Why does every single member of this family feel the need to come near me and give it a little poke, jiggle or slappity-slap every time they walk by?

It's just an average butt, maybe, okay, probably a little bit too big, and as Ajers claims, "It's kinda flabby, Mom," which is okay, FINE! Then why the hell does everyone need to TOUCH ME ALL THE TIME! My space, my butt! Puhlease let me and my butt be!

And the boob thing is an issue now too. Diva is constantly trying to grope me, to casually feel a little boobalicious blob of booby. And the questions these days!

"Mom, did you breastfeed me?"

"Why not?"

"Why did you breastfeed the boys but not me?"

"Can I touch them?"

WHY? "Because I want to know what they feel like."

Good, I'll go fill up two water balloons for you and you can fondle them all day long or until they pop and splat all over your shoes, Missy.

And other stuff, like:

"Mom, what hurt more? When they cut Ajers out of your belly, or when I came out of your cootchie?"

My answer: It was really hard to get you out of there (she was 9lbs, 4oz), but I think it was mostly because she was stubborn.

And she seemed pleased that she hurt me more entering this world.

Yes, she is going to be my challenging child.

And then, Ajers today sees the word SEX on the computer. Hell, he could see it anywhere he looks, in songs, on billboards, in magazines, on TV, so why not just start talking about it. So, he points to the word and giggles.

I look at him.

"I know you know what it means," I tell him.

Giggles. Then, "Yeah, it means it's either a boy or a girl." Good, he remembered my first explanation way back when.

"But, I know you know more about what that means, and we can talk about it."

"No mom. It's embarrassing."

"No it's not. It's just a word. And I know you know."

And we're laughing with one another and I'm so proud we are having this discussion because I always want to be open with my children; I want to tell them what they want to know, but not everything, because they don't need to know everything yet.

"I knew when I was your age," I tell him. Then I say, "Just tell me two words about it."

(Here I'm thinking he will say PENIS and VAGINA).

"Three words," he says.

"Okay." (Please, please, please, don't say BUTT!)

Here are his three words:




"And then what?" I ask, because this is the point I would find out how much he really knew.

"They make out."


"Why do people do that?" he wants to know.

"Well, I guess it's kind of like a hug. You like being hugged, don't you? It's a way of being close."

"Do you and Daddy do it?"

"Sometimes, but not all that much."

"Like on a honeymoon?" he says.

"Yeah, or an anniversary or a birthday," I tell him.
(Oh, and of course, Father's Day, but NEVER on Mother's Day!)

And that was about it for the discussion. He was embarrassed in the beginning, but I let him know it's okay to talk about this stuff with me, and now he's got some answers, not all of them, but at least we've got the door open and I'm pretty sure he feels comfortable knowing if he has any questions ever, he can come to me to ask.

(Shoot, I just realized post-conversation that I didn't explain to him that only adults do this! I'VE FAILED AT MY FIRST SEX TALK WITH MY SON!)

Tuesday, June 06, 2006

Feel-Good Movie

I think CMommy is a big fan of this movie too, but tonight is the first time I've actually sat and watched the complete movie, and I am totally loving Disney's High School Musical! Why the hell wasn't it made for the big screen though? That one woulda made a ton of money.

Watching it gives me the same feelings as the first time I saw Grease, Footloose and Dirty Dancing. It really just makes my heart feel happy! If you are of the era of these above-mentioned movies, and remember watching them and wanting to get up and dance in the aisle of your local movie theater (which I think I did when I saw Footloose), then you should really go out and rent High School Musical.

It's just fun in a warm-hearted way, and it makes you wish you could go to high school again, and it also makes you wish all high schools were really like that, and it makes you wish you never sucked at chemistry and that you had a hot basketball star who could melt you with his voice and would fall in love with you!

It also shares a really, really, really great and important lesson about how people should be accepting of others no matter what.

I hope my kids learned something from it other than Mommy really stinks at the sing-along parts and she should stop getting all giddy right at the part when Troy almost kisses Gabriella!

More Crap Nobody's Reading Anyway

Okay, so here's the deal. I said Screw it today with the Atkins-clog-up-your-arteries-don't-shit-for-four-days diet and switched back to my tried-and-true Weight Watchers points.

Halelulia, or however you spell that. For a couple of reasons.

I've been getting those bad headaches, and I'm pretty sure it's because of the no-carb. I know, I know, LOW CARB, and Good Carbs is the way to go, along with exercise. I'm aware of that. I'm also aware that, Thank God, my stupid scale is off about six pounds THE WRONG WAY. I went to the doctor today to discuss my thyroid issues and got weighed, and I'm six pounds in favor at their scale; also four pounds less than I was in Feb when I was last at the doc, but I am just chalking that up to winter clothes weigh-in vs. summer clothes weigh-in.

Regardless, the past six days of NO CARBs has just reassured me that I know I have the willpower when I get to the point that I have to kick it into gear, and I also know that I cannot be deprived of the things I love.

And, you know one thing I love I haven't had since a week ago Monday when I was in Florida...


So, I'm counting points today, and did the Subway Jared lunch thing and I have all these extra points to use up today and I'm not hungry but dammit! I want my light frap, so I go and get it....

and here's where it gets highschoolish.

Cute Starbucks Boy is there, but he's not working; he's just hanging out.

And he shaved his head, and he is heart-stopping gorgeous, even more so WITHOUT HAIR! I freaked! I stared! I swooned! I stared some more. All the while he's chattin' up two girls that look like highschoolers while I'm thinking, "Ooh, let me get a hold of him! He doesn't need highschoolers! He needs a mature woman to show him a few tricks!" HAHAH. I am so married and so in love with my husband that I am cracking up as I'm writing this.

Which BTW, husband finally, finally, after what, 18 months of dedicated practically daily blogging, surfed over to MM and said to me just the other day, "Do you think you should be saying this stuff about your IUD? I mean, what if people who work for me read this?"

Okay, if your employees have that much time on their hands to google their boss's wife's name and find her blog, then Whooopppeeee! Have at it folks!!

Anyway, totally digressing over here.

So, hottie-bald-starbucks boy leaves right after I'm getting into my hot sportsmobile, aka the minivan, and he begins walking. I'm in my car and I have this fleeting fantasy...

The other day, when I was brave and flirty with the blood-taker-guy, my confidence must have gotten boosted (even if my thyroid numbers didn't, and they now need to up my meds!) because I was this close today to rolling down the way cool-like minivan window and confirming that it was definitely hottie-starbucks-boy.

I was thisclose to just coming right out and saying, "You shaved your head?"

I envisioned he would modestly reach up and touch his fuzz, smile shyly and say, "Yeah."

Then I would probably boldly just come right out and say it:

"Dude, you look totally, totally, TOTALLY hot like that!"

Maybe I'll do it the next time I go over for a Frap!

Can I Just Say...

I hate my fucking dishwasher and the only person who knows how to load it properly is my husband.

Monday, June 05, 2006


So, I got the booby-squish this a.m. And gotta be honest with you here. The first smash took the air out of me! Whooooo, that’s a cruncher for sure. Then, when I was able to exhale and the stars in front of my eyes disappeared, I thought, “Okay, that was definitely worse than the one I got two years ago, but the alternative of NOT getting it done is just not an option.” I hope you feel that way too.

Rewind to pre-booby-smash as I was getting ready to take the girls in for their mammo. I had to remember to not wear deodorant, and then I chose a comfy bra, which, now that I’m thinking about it, why the hell did it matter if I had a comfy bra on anyway? Why did it matter that I wore a bra anyway? I had to take it off eventually. But, the comfy bra I chose is actually a very thin maternity sportsy-type bra that I wore like every day of my third pregnancy. Why do I still have this bra you ask?

Duh. It’s my comfy sportsy-type bra, that’s why!

Problem was, it’s a little see-through, and my girls must have been excited about getting squished today because I ended up walking into the mammo place with my arms severely crossed against my breasts, as if I were a pre-pubescent girl at the swim club walking past the hottie lifeguards.

Anyway, I’m at the mammo place, breast out, front and center, and boy, do those techs have to know how to maneuver and manipulate just to get it in perfect place to smash it like a freaking pancake.

As she was molding my booby and pulling back my shoulder and telling me to turn my head toward her, I prayed that I didn’t have stinky breath, so I wasn’t really even breathing, even when she told me to hold my breath.

Then, after the first picture was taken [Say Cheese!], I exhaled and felt better.

“I bet this is the only job in the world they don’t let men do,” I said.

There is no way in hell a woman would let a man do that to her breast, even if the end result was pleasurable. No way. And it’s weird to think that, sure, I’d let a man doctor stick whatever he has to stick up there in order to make sure I don’t have cervical cancer or to check for an IUD string, or to massage the perineum to pull out a healthy eight-pounder, but the breast thing? No way would I let a man do that to me.

Odd. Very odd.

So, while it was uncomfortable, it was survivable, and that is the KEY word here my friends. You get a booby squish, and the odds of you surviving are so much more greater than if you don’t.

Plus, one more good thing about getting a mammogram: They don’t have to weigh you there in order to take your boob’s picture!
~ ~ ~
So, done with that, and then I decide, hey, since I haven’t eaten anything since last night’s beef shish-kabobs, onions, peppers (Oh hell yeah, now that I think about it, I definitely had stinky breath at the mammogram!), buffalo moz and tomato salad, I figured I could go get my blood taken for this thyroid management I’m on. The blood-taking place just happens to be directly upstairs from the booby-picture-taking place (I’m all about convenience folks!)

I go upstairs, sign in and sit down and then suddenly a cute doctor looking guy in a white jacket opens the door and says very sexily, “Manic Mom?”


Ooh, and I get nervous because he is really cute, and I’ve never had a cute blood taker before. I felt my face blush.

I go in and sit in the chair and ask which vein he takes it from because I prefer the left. He says, “You know, you’re arm’s not going to work for a week after I do this.”

Good, does that mean I get to stay in bed then? Winka winka. No! Of course I didn’t say that! But while he was spanking me… yes, he had to spank me… I was a bad, bad girl… hahah, kidding, but he did have to slap my arm to make my vein pop out, and boy, was I thinking crazy little thoughts as he delivered each smack!

Then he starts the procedure and in my head I’m thinking, “Don’t breathe on him! You ate onions and peppers last night!” And then I’m thinking, “Say something witty, something flirty. Be a flirt; make him laugh! He’s cute. You’re in this room alone together, make the most of it!”

I was too busy thinking of cute things to try to say that I ended up not saying anything.

Then he tells me he’s run out of adult bandaids.

“That’s okay, I can take a kid one! And do I get a sticker too?” There! I did it! I was officially flirting!

“You get two if you cry,” he replied.

Ooh baby, make me cry. Heh heh.

So, when the needle’s in I tell him that wasn’t too bad, and he tells me he only has to take one vial, and I say it looks like a lot and he tells me if you put the blood in a shot glass, it’s not even a half a shot.


Then it’s out, it’s all done, and I still haven’t said anything overly charming or witty. I’m boring. I am lame. I suck. Why can’t I be an empowered woman? A woman who is confident enough to just get her boobs smashed for the sake of surviving? A woman who is confident enough to take a needle to her vein in order to manage her thyroid?

Dammit, I am woman, here me roar!

So, he gets out the band-aid and I say, “I hope it’s not a Batman one.” Oooh, clever one there, Manic Mom.

“Old School—It’s Snoopy.”

Does this mean he thinks I’M OLD!?!?!? Just what I needed for the old ego boost!

He gently applies the band-aid and says, “There you go. You got to sit in a high chair (cuz the chair kind of does look like one, I guess), and you got a Snoopy band-aid...”

Then, witty Manic Mom jumps out and finally comes up with the cleverist thing she was searching for to say the whole time cute-blood-taker was testing and smacking, and poking and pricking… and this is what I say…

“I also got a cute guy to take my blood!”

Then I bolted the hell out of there because I had blushed as red as the blood that was just vacuumed from my vein, but not before hearing cute-blood-taker guy say,
“Hey, thanks!”


That's what Tukey has. Poor little guy. We're driving home from getting the prescription, (after he sat in the grocery store bathroom, trying to puke, and saying, "Why is Jesus doing this to me?") when we get stopped at a red light.

"Doesn't the red light KNOW THAT I AM SICK!?!?!?"

Another post later, when I share all the booby squishing details from this morning (when I unknowingly left my strep-ridden baby with a neighbor who has two little girls!)

Sunday, June 04, 2006


Up until about a half-hour ago, I could have said this:
"I haven't had a drink or a poo since Wednesday!"

Whew, this no carb thing is rough on the bowel system!

So, hubby and I were ON.THE.WAGON. ALL Weekend Long! (Well, he golfed on Saturday and had one-and-a-half beers... BTW, how does one manage to only drink half a beer, I'd like to know?)

As of this a.m., there has been absolutely no weight loss, unless you count the half-pound I gained the second day of the diet, but then that one disappeared. I have denounced all potatoes, all pasta, all sugar, all bread (except for a quarter of a piece I had to eat yesterday slathered with PB lest I go into a carb-free-induced-headache-coma).

The no-drinking part is really not that hard. Really. Especially since vacation where we drowned ourselves in my homemade margaritas and broke the blender, but I already told you that. On to new and exciting things. (Don't worry, I made a list. Ha).

Am reading the novel, BreakupBabe, which is really, really good, and LOL funny. I think Rebecca Agiewich is the pioneer of Love Blogging and it's such a fun book where she blends reality and fiction in a way where you wonder, "Hmmm, did this really happen or did she invent this scene?!" Also, she sure as hell got even with the bastard who dumped her, and boy, the way she tells it, her nickname of him, Loser, is really fitting. I don't even know how she ended up with someone like that because she seems so vivacious and outgoing, and he just sounds like a weenie-computer-geek who didn't know a good thing when he had it. So, major shout-out to BreakupBabe who definitely got the last laugh in that relationship, and hopefully, it's on its way to the best-seller list!

Now, I'm sure everyone's wondering when ManicMom, the novel will be in stores....

Yup. Keep on waiting. No plans for that blockbuster. Hahah.

On to some kid stuff, because Manic Mom's blog should contain some kid stuff, right? Poor Tukey is sick with 102.2 under-the-arm temp, so that means it's really 103.2. He actually DOESN'T WANT ME. I went to check on him and he's all like, "Get out of here!" Like I gave him the damned fever or some shit. Come on. I'm his mother. It's all I want to do is cuddle him and make sure he's comfy and feed him ice pops and put a cold cloth onto his burning little head, but does he want me?

Nah. Daddy is who he wants tonight... YIPEEEEEEEEEEE!

And Ajers had his big all-star game today where they announce the players and the boys are in a real dugout and it's O.F.F.I.C.I.A.L.

Well, we were playing the team of the kid who's parents' we bought our house from. Say that fast like, ah hell, say it once. And then try to figure out what the heck I mean. Anyway, I went to the opposing side to chat up the previous owner of my home, who we are on friendly terms with (OK, truth be told, we've gotten drunk with them quite a few times, but who doesn't get drunk with Manic and her husband when a social event calls?)...

So, I'm talking to T, and we're semi-watching the game, you know, how moms watch...

"So, did you hear about J's breast implant... Whooo Hoooo! Way to hit the ball Joey... anyway, there was a problem and ... Nice grounder kiddo! Keep at it!.... her husband thought they were too small so he told her.... You kiddin' me ump! He was safe as the day is long....."

Anyway, that wasn't a real conversation, but isn't that how moms watch the kids play ball? Intermittedly? (Spelled right or wrong, don't know, don't care, I'm on a roll here telling you about... about nothing, so if it's boring, just stop reading...)

Finally, point of the story is, Ajers was up to bat and I was kind of paying attention and he got to first and I cheered, and then I heard someone from the stands (keep in mind, I'm sitting with the opposing team at this point)... this lady goes...

"I'd like to see some I.D. for that kid."

My ears PERK up, a mother bear in the cavern, protecting her young cub... I just KNEW she was talking about MY.PRECIOUS.BOY...because AJers is the biggest kid out there, and I'm not saying it in a braggy way, because he's had some really hard times with the fact that he's way taller than everyone else, and he just wants to be littler sometimes, so I have an awareness that he's very self-concious of this.

So, I say...

"You talking about that big kid?"

She: "Yeah, wonder what his birth certificate really says."

Me: "October 26, 1997... He's MINE!"

Don't mess wit da mamma bear, my brutha.

Anyway, we went to a benefit for a friend of a friend last night who is SURVIVING breast cancer. After she got diagnosed, her mom went in, and gee, let's give the mom breast cancer too, so mom gets diagnosed with the same breast cancer. Like that's fair (I know, I know, not much in life is fair), but still... it was an amazing event with tons of support from family and friends and their loved ones and it was not sad, it was inspiring and amazing. This girl looks at her breast cancer like it's just something she's got to kick the hell out of and get on with her life. And man, that's the freaking way to do it!

My mammogram is tomorrow ten a.m. I hope all of you who THOUGHT about it, even for a nannosecond, called your insurance plan, your doctor, your gyne, and made that appointment. It is so curable as long as you stay on top of it.

Besides, staying on top of some things can be pretty fun!

I'm out! Peace be with you all!

PS--Tukey yakked in the toilet, fever magically disappeared and now he wants an ice cream sandwich. He is a miracle boy.

Friday, June 02, 2006

Carb Monster and The Period Fairy

Was able to evade the Carb Monster all day yesterday and today, but suffered a horrible near vomit-induced migraine last night where I went to bed with an eye-pack over my eyes, Tukey comforting me while I moaned in agony. Thinking it was due to my body detoxing from lack of carbs, I wasn't sure I would be able to avoid a fat old lovely loaf of Panera bread today, but I did it! Twelve days to go until I'm 'guaranteed to lose 8-12 pounds' of horrible body fat, which is precisely in the places that prohibit me from feeling as happy as I know I could feel sans that extra fat.

Fortunately, I did get a visit from someone very special today, which I knew I would. I was just trying to create a little drama here because Manic Mom can get pretty boring. Thank you Period Fairy, for arriving today, and for also sprinkling some Delaying Period Fairy dust over me during my vacation!

And finally, today was Tukey's last day of preschool, and my last day of a two-and-a-half-hour stretch without children until September!!! I contemplated how to spend my last minutes of uninterrupted freedom. Should I bang out more of the revisions for 40? Should I unpack the suitcases from Wednesday that are still packed and thrown on the foyer floor? Should I do a little work for pay? Should I do some of the laundry that hasn't been done? Should I strip the beds and change the linens? Clean out a closet or two?

Ah, screw it.

I napped.

And the thing that pissed me off is the phone kept ringing. And then when whoever was calling my home didn't get a response from me, my cell would start ringing. I would pick up the phone, look at the caller ID, and decide my last 150 minutes of free-alone-all-me-and-no-one-else time didn't need to be spent rehashing my vacation with the caller, or planning outtings for next week. Nope, I wanted to close my eyes, and dream of all the fun I'm going to have at home this summer with three active wonderful children whose main concern and daily questions consist of, "Mom, entertain us!" or "Mom, what can we do next?!" or "Mom, take us somewhere!"

Ah, the joys of summer!

Thursday, June 01, 2006

Here, Here; I'm Here

We're back!

And aside from a minor delay in our flight; a blender that blew up and went kaputz due to a gazillion pitchers of my specialty margaritas; one day of crappy weather; and a failed attempt at a Xanax-suicide-pact between my brother, future sister-in-law and me because some nameless relatives were being complete A-holes one evening, we had a beautiful time!

And, we celebrated out 13th anniversary like the lovey-dovey couple that we are! I awoke in the kids-free-condo in a plush king-sized empty bed. A perfect start, right?!

Hubby was lounging on the couch watching ESPN or some other shit station. Then we cuddled for a while and decided to walk to Starbucks. Actually, it was more like:

Me: Hon, want to walk to Starbucks?

Him: Anything you want today babe.

So, we journeyed to Starbucks in the deep heat of the south, and then journeyed back, sweating profusely and stinking like wet dogs who had just run through a swampy lake. Went to a nice lunch where I drank a little too much. Went to Walgreen's to purchase a replacement blender for the broken one and to refill my Xanax prescription. Came back to the condo where Hub went down by the pool and I proceeded to pass out on the couch from my afternoon buzz.

Later, when it started to rain, Hub came back up, woke me from my nap, snagged the remote and changed it to ESPN again, while I devoured this book. I will now be purchasing every single Sarah Dessennovel ever written because she is an awesome, incredible writer and she has now been added to my list of stalkees! So watch out Sarah, you'll be hearing from me!

Later, after Hubby had plied me with wine in an unsuccessful attempt to lure me away from my Young Adult novel, I retrieved the remote and found a very interesting show on MTV. Now, I am a child of the MTV era. I dedicated myself to the first 15 or 16 seasons of Real World. I knew every answer to every question from that terrific show, REMOTE CONTROL! I loved MTV! I lived MTV! I WANT MY MTV. The very first video I saw on MTV was Hungry Like the Wolf and I was APPALLED that Simon Le Bon was french-kissing that tribal woman ON TV! Oh, the innocence I once was.

Alas, I watch no longer. I have aged.

But on this particularly evening, the one where 13 years ago, Hub and I had pledged our love forever to one another, I was lured by wine and Parental Control on MTV, which is a hilariously stupid reality TV show, we sat next to one another and laughed our asses off episode after episode until it was like 8:30 and we thought we should maybe take advantage of our time alone...

Yep, we did it...

We walked across the street and had pizza at Joey's Pizza and Pasta Pub.

Now, there's an anniversary dinner to remember! It's really what I wanted though; some really good pizza and a caprese salad. Oh, and a ten-dollar glass of Santa Margarita wine. After all, we were celebrating 13 years of wedded bliss... Ha, I almost really just wrote Piss by accident!

Anyway, not only did we have some great quality time alone, we spent time with some very dear family members (shout-out, Love you all!)...

And, I do have to say I am grateful to the Period Fairies, or the Menstrual Queen, or the Bleeding Goddess for she (One can only assume that a Period Fairy would be female, wouldn't one?) forgot to pay me a visit during our vacation!

Which, depending on if my IUD is still in place, could be a good thing, or a very, very, very bad thing. Because for some reason, I think Little Ms. Period Fairy forgot where I live as she hasn't been by to visit since April 21!

Anyway, in the meantime, I am now locking up the Carbmonster in my home and keeping him away from my lips as he's gotten the best of my hips these last few weeks of unadulterated feasting on whatever the hell I feel like feasting on.

So, any of you out there who have lassoed up the evil Carbmonster and rid him from your lives, I would be forever in debt if you could share ways to keep him from creeping out of my fridge and pantry and shoving himself fully into my mouth. I need to seriously do this for two weeks. Really. Truly... No French fries, no pizza, no bread, no pasta... No Alcohol... helpmepleaseIcanhearhimwhisperingmynameintheformofabagofchips...
please... he's calling for me...